


Write Our Names In The Wet Concrete

by SaberAmane



Series: I'll Sing My Love For You [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bucky Barnes Feels, Cap!Steve/modern!Bucky, Captain America Steve, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Kissing, M/M, Singer!Bucky, Song Inspired, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaberAmane/pseuds/SaberAmane
Summary: Steve was always told he was meant for great things. That was probably in no small part due to his soul marks.(In which Steve has to die to find his Soulmate, and almost gave up. In which Bucky searched so hard for his Soulmate, he sang his soul in the hope he'd be heard.)(The soulmate AU no asked for, but I wrote anyway, instead of updating a story that's been neglected for 2 years.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AraniaArt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraniaArt/gifts), [Kamiki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamiki/gifts).



> Inspired by Fall Out Boys song "The Last Of The Real Ones", which just really spoke to me about stucky somehow.
> 
> A little gift to AraniaArt and Kamiki who are writing the wonderful Falling's Just Another Way To Fly series about succubus Bucky!

Steve was always told he was meant for great things. That was probably in no small part due to his soul marks. _‘I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do.’_ , was written on the inside of his left forearm, the script neat but showing passion. His ma was certain it meant that his illnesses worked themselves out in the end, that he got better and overcame the difficulties his body was plagued with.

Steve didn’t really know what to think, he just tried to be the best man he could be.

The years passed slowly, through cold winters and blistering summers, through hunger and the race for jobs. Those words made all the hardships worth it, with the promise that happiness was at the end of the road, one way or another.

And then Sarah Rogers died, weak and frail in a hospital bed, but still with a smile on her face.

“You’ll find them Steve. Don’t give in to despair.”

There were few people at the funeral, the casket and burial only just paid for. The day was clouded with light rain, dreary and all around unhappy. Steve stayed long after the casket was lowered into the ground, long after everyone else had left. He knew, standing in the rain, he was going to pay for it, a cough or fever or something equally as deadly to him.

He couldn’t bring himself to care.

That night, sitting in his childhood home, surrounded by the evidence of his once mostly happy life around him, Steve cried. The few photos hung on the walls were painful to look at, the throw over the couch one his mother had knitted for him one Christmas between her endless hours at the hospital. He sat on the worn and faded couch, his right thumb rubbing over his words. He never really thought about it, but the scrawling words didn’t just hold passion in them, they were desperate, sad, just as lonely as Steve felt that moment. Steve made a decision that night, the rain falling and the apartment eerily quiet.

He could make it on his own, he didn’t need anyone’s help.

* * *

 Steve looked over the mountains, the snow gleaming almost painfully bright with the winter sun. The zip-line was set up, the train tracks were in sight, and command just radioed in saying Zola’s train was just given permission to open the throttle. Moments later the train came around the bend, quickly gaining speed. Steve turned around to his men, strapping his helmet on.

“You ready guys?” A round of affirmation went, Gabe stepping up first to the zip-line Steve behind him, Dugan taking the last spot. “Alright, lets get this guy.”

Steve knew he walked into a trap a second before the door shut and locked behind him. Nevertheless he turned and tried to open it, knowing he was going to be unsuccessful. The door at the other end opened, and a Hydra goon walked out in some sort of strange bulky army, and what was no doubt some sort of high powered gun strapped to each arm. Steve raised his shield just as a high pitched whine sounded, followed by a strong impact against the shield, throwing Steve back. He raised his pistol shooting at the Hydra goon, deflecting another shot of the blue energy and grabbed hold of the pulley rail, swinging to the soldier and kicking him down, following with a swift hit from his shield.

Seeing the soldier was downed, Steve walked to the door, looking for a way to unlock. He was just pressing the release when the whine from the guns alerted him. Steve turned, raising the shield just as the door opened, and the soldier fired. Steve was thrown back, the shield deflecting the shot and blasting open the side of the train, the side Steve was flying towards. The shield landed some distance away as Steve clung to the jagged metal of the train, trying to climb back up. Steve looked up at the whine of the guns recharging, feeling his heart race as he looked up into the masked face of the Hydra soldier.

Everything went black.

* * *

When Steve opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that there wasn’t any pain radiating through his body. For a moment he didn’t remember why he expected to be in pain. Then as his mind woke up, he remembered. The train, Zola, being blasted from the train, falling, falling, falling. The icy bite of the river at the bottom of the ravine.

Here he was, warm, in a bed, the sound of traffic filtering in through the open window. There was a radio playing a baseball game and-

Wait.

Steve turned on the bed, looking at the window, the walls, the radio.

He was at this game.

The door opened, and a woman walked in. Her clothes were wrong, her hair was wrong. Even her make-up. He took another look around the room as she called a soft greeting, her accent grating and speech clumsy, unpracticed, like it wasn’t how she usually spoke.

“Where am I?” Steve asked, slowly standing from the bed. He was in tan pants, a white shirt with the SSR logo, bare feet. She looked worried.

“Why, your in a recovery room in New York City.” She replied, a somewhat bland smile on her face, trying to be placating. Steve tensed further and glared.

“Where am I _really_?” The woman’s eyes widened slightly, her smile tighter.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The game you got playing in the radio? It’s from May, nineteen forty one. I know, ‘cause I was at the stadium.” He rose slowly to his full, imposing height. The woman blanched visibly, even under the thick layers of powder on her cheeks. She stiffened the way a soldier would go stiff, preparing for an attack. “Now, I’m gonna ask you again. Where am I?”

“Captain Rogers…” she began, that deceptive innocence back in place; but Steve saw her reach for a button of sorts under her sleeve, and was on the move before she could add a word.

He broke from the room and ran, two guards in black bursting from a nearby room and chasing after him. He rushed through the building, going past more soldier’s and technicians in lab coats.

He burst out of the building onto the street, stumbling at the sight before him. The city was all wrong. The air was heavy with fumes, there were too many buildings that climbed to the sky itself, towering over everything. There were colors everywhere, sounds blaring and deafening assaulting his ear drums. The people were dressed funny, the cars different from what he’s seen.

He ran, and though it was almost unrecognizable, he ended up in Times Square. Steve jolted to a stop, panting, looking around.

It really was New York.

Black cars circled him, agents getting out. A dark skinned man in black exited one of the vehicles, walking towards Steve with a grim look on his face.

“At ease Soldier.” The man said. Steve turned towards him, giving him all his attention, confused. “You’ve been asleep Cap.”  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...so....I feel two chapters aren't going to be enough. We'll see where this takes us...

Steve has been in the future for 4 years now. The year was 2016. He was nearly a hundred years old, and still had yet to find his soul mate. Not that he had been actively looking. Why bother when they were probably dead for the last two decades?

Some days, Steve wondered what happened to them. Did they ever give up on finding him and settle down with someone else? Did they die alone, clinging to the hope that they would find each other? These thoughts always made Steve feel guilty. He had given up hope long before he went into the ice.

Perhaps it was that little bit of guilt he felt that made him turn down Natasha’s offers to find him a date. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested in romance. Steve really couldn’t tell you.

Steve looked up from the file he was reading, a briefing on some intel they had gotten on some sort of shadow organization planning on world take over via some sort of virus they were working on manufacturing. Natasha stood in the doorway, wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt, looking deliberately nonchalant. Something Steve learned quickly in this century was this, never believe a Spy is being nonchalant or innocent.

He’s learned it the hard way.

“What are you planning Natasha?” Steve asked, tired. He glanced to the clock on the wall and sighed. It was nearing midnight, and he’d been here since nearly 6 AM. He should have left hours ago.

“What makes you think I’m planning something?” Natasha asks, entering the room and dropping into one of the plush arm chairs in the office Steve had been using.

“Your always planning something.” Steve replied, glancing at her with a smile. She smiled back with a huff of laughter, before sobering slightly.

“I’ve been wondering something.” She started, looking up at him with kind eyes. It was rare you could get a lead on what she was feeling, so Steve sat the file down and gave her his full attention, wondering at what she was going to say that put such a serious look.

“It says in your agent file you have a soul mark.” She starts, and Steve can feel his eyes shuttering, shoulders tensing. She continues, voice even. “It doesn’t say whether you ever met your soul mate. Is that why you decline all the dates I try to set you up with?” Natasha pauses, gaze becoming uncertain. “If your grieving, just tell me. I’ll drop it.” The last part is said so sincerely, almost sadly, that Steve melts, closing his eyes and sighing.

“I never met my soul mate. Honestly after my Ma died I never really tried. And then there was the war, and Project Rebirth. And the ice. Now? What’s the point of looking for someone who’s either already dead, or lived their life without me? Just because someone has a soul mate, it doesn’t mean your guaranteed to meet them.” Steve feels his throat tighten, his eyes prick with stubborn tears. He clears his throat and looks up at Natasha, seeing a pain in her eyes he knows comes from a deep loss.

“There’s something I learned, from my time in the Red Room.” She stood, lifting her shirt slightly to reveal her navel. On one side, a starburst scar from a bullet, most likely a high powered rifle. On the other, faded grey words, appearing blurry and smudged. “So long as you can read your words clearly, your soul mate is alive. When they fade and blur, it means they’ve passed on, and your left alone in the world.” She didn’t say how she knew this, but Steve could read the insinuation. If your alone in the world, you have nothing to lose. If you have nothing to lose, nothing to live for, you have no reason to fight. All the easier to be used as a weapon.

To put it simply, the Red Room found Natasha’s soul mate, and killed them.

Probably made her watch.

Steve fidgeted in his seat, gaze falling to the desk and closed folder in front of him.

“They’d want to meet you Steve. They’d want to know that you existed.” Natasha says softly. Steve taps his thumbs on the desk top before slowly moving to his long sleeved shirt, playing with the cuff. Honestly, he can’t remember the last time he actually looked at his soul mark. He touched it all the time, almost subconsciously. But looking at it? Completely different story.

He slowly tugged up the sleeve of his shirt, forearm facing down as he bunched the sleeve at his elbow. He breathed in deep and turned his arm over.

 _‘I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do.’_ It was still as dark and crisp as ever, curling elegantly in swooping letters.

In fact, Steve thought it seemed a bit darker than he remembered.

He held his arm out to Natasha who stepped forward, looking at the script on his forearm. There was a twitch of a sad smile before her brows furrowed and she leaned closer, pursing her lips. She hums softly before straightening.

“It means they’re alive. You shouldn’t give up on them.” Natasha turns and walks from the office, heading towards the elevator. Steve sits there for awhile, staring at his arm in contemplation. What Natasha said kept repeating in his mind, lending even more fuel to his insomnia.

_“They’d want to know that you existed.”_

 

* * *

 

_“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.”_

These are the words that graced Bucky Barnes’s right inner thigh his entire life. They were neat enough, nothing fancy. It wasn’t neat cursive script like on his mothers ankle, or the loopy scrawl on Becca’s wrist. But Bucky liked it. It was his, and it was his soul mate’s, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

A slightly less provocative placement would have been nice though.

In a world where soul marks were on every bit of official paperwork you could think of, being just as identifiable as social security cards, it tended to be a bit embarrassing having to tell people over and over where his soul mark was. One thing he did get lucky with were the words themselves. Becca’s had a thinly veiled reference to boobs, Mike from high school had a large mark all down his back comparing his dick to an ex’s, and an ex-FWB of Bucky’s was a rather scathing remark about someone’s distant family members.

So, yeah. Bucky got off lucky. His soul mark actually told him a little bit about his soul mate. They were obviously a feisty thing. Sarcastic. And while Bucky found he preferred guys, if his soul mate was a woman he would still love them. Bucky felt he already loved them, just from the soul mark alone.

(It was hard not to think of them when getting off, seeing as his words were pretty much right next to his dick. Seriously. He pretty much had to undress to show his mark when asked for doctor appointments.)

And yet here Bucky was. Thirty-two and still has yet to meet his soul mate. Statistics show about 90% of people meet their soul mate by age twenty-five. No one has ever found their soul mate after age thirty-five. You could say that by age twenty-six, Bucky started getting desperate. It wasn’t long after that that his hobby of singing Disney tunes to his younger sisters and cousins turned into a near obsessive need to write new songs, to perform in front of as many people as possible. Hoping his voice would be heard, that his words would ring for someone.

He never really meant to become famous, but in the end it could only help his cause right?

Here he was, six years later, twenty million subscribers on you tube, over 200 compositions under his belt of remixed songs, parodies and an original album. And he was still, as his sisters described it, desperately alone.

If he was being honest, he was losing hope.

  
There are millions of people who have heard him sing, who watch his performances, who have talked to him. And yet, no ones ever looked at him like he sees his parents. Or Becca and her husband. Or literally anyone he has ever met who had their soul mate beside them.

Bucky smiled down at Abigail, cradling her closer in his arms as she slept. Becca was asleep in the hospital bed, her long chestnut hair thrown up in a messy bun. Abigail was his first niece, Becca the eldest of his sisters and only just turned twenty-four. She met her soul mate in high school, and they had been together ever since, going to the same college, moving in together and marrying after graduation. And now here Bucky was, sitting in a hospital room holding his niece, wanting more than anything to cry.

Whether it was from joy or sadness, he couldn’t tell you.

“Bucky.” Bucky looked up, smiling at Becca’s tired smile. “You better not be thinking of stealing her.” Becca joked. Bucky laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“Nah, you can keep her. You’re the one who’s gonna have to change all the diapers and wake up every two hours each night. I’ll just visit.” Becca laughed back, before sitting up slightly in the bed. Bucky stood and walked over, handing the newborn back to her mother, watching as Becca’s adoring smile spread across her face as she looked down at her first daughter.

“I’m so happy for you Becca.” Bucky said quietly. Becca looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“You’ll find them. I know you will. You have literally put more effort in finding your soul mate than anyone I have ever heard of.” Becca held out her hand, squeezing when Bucky grasped it.

“Maybe they don’t want to be found.” Becca frowned, looking at her older brother with sadness. She didn’t want to agree with him, but there were always stories of soul mates where one didn’t want to be with the other. Where one knew who their other half was and hadn’t reached out. She didn’t want to think that was the case. Bucky was the most amazing person she knew. He was always there for her growing up, her and their other sisters. He was so smart, driven, funny. He worked so hard for everything he accomplished and was still humble about his accomplishments. If anyone in the whole world deserved the happiness of a soul mate, it was Bucky.

“Then it’s their loss.” Becca replied, trying to wipe the sad smile off his face. And she meant it. If Bucky’s soul mate wasn’t even going to give him a chance, then they didn’t deserve him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the long wait. We had tornados pass through and I lost power for multiple days. Most things in my fridge had to be thrown out, the things in my large stand up freezer are questionable.  
> I am not having a good time.  
> I've also horribly sprained my ankle, so until the swelling goes down I won't be going anywhere. Thats probably good news for you guys. I might get the ambition to write the next chapter faster.  
> No Bucky in this one, but he WILL be in the next, in some way.   
> Also, thanks so much for all the kudo's and comments! I love hearing from you guys!

Steve groaned as he slowly lowered himself onto the jump seats of the quinjet. The mission had been going so smoothly until someone hit the self-destruct.

Why did secret lairs always have a self-destruct mechanism?

He was able to get out on time, along with the rest of the team. Though he did get thrown pretty far from the blast. And while it wasn’t the worst explosion he’s been a little too close to, he didn’t normally get thrown right into a boulder.

He tugged his gloves off, throwing them onto the seat next to him as the rest of the team filed on board. The shield was leaning against his leg, muddy and covered in filth, but unscratched. His helmet was the next to come off, getting tossed with his gloves. He smiled in thanks as Sam handed him a water bottle, digging one of the specially made protein powders from a pouch on his belt and dumping it in, shaking it to mix it up.

The rest of the team seated themselves in various seats while the quinjet lifted off the ground, pulling various parts of their gear off. It appeared no one was significantly hurt, the injures sustained mostly minor cuts and bruises with a few pulled or otherwise stressed muscles.

Sam was seated next to him, Bruce and Tony in the cockpit, talking about some sort of experiment they were working on, Clint and Natasha sitting across from him. Clint was rubbing one of his wrists while Natasha had pulled out her phone, tapping away quickly as she messaged someone. Steve was just about finished with his protein enhanced water when Clint’s phone started to ring, first with a series of chirps that slowly transitioned into piano and guitar, a voice slowly forming into words.

_‘I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do.’_

Clint pulled his phone out, quieting the ring tone and looking over at Natasha, who had been the one to text him. She was staring steadfast at Steve, who’s eyes had widened and dropped the empty water bottle to the floor. His mouth was dropped open, a slight wheeze escaping his lips as he tried to regain control of his breath.

If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think someone had just sucker punched him in the gut. But he did know better, and he knew no one hit him, but he couldn’t explain this feeling any other way. His skin itched and his heart raced, his hands shaking like he was having a panic attack.

Sam reacted, tossing his own water bottle down as he steadied Steve so he wouldn’t fall from the seat. The conversation from the cockpit had abruptly cut off, both Tony and Bruce standing in the doorway. Clint was looking even more confused, looking from Natasha to his phone, to Steve and back.

Steve was just getting a hold of himself when Natasha said, -

“I thought so.” Steve looked up at her, his pulse slowing, his hands steadying. The only thing really going through his mind was that, Clint’s ring tone was his words, the man sounded young, and the tone of music was definitely something ‘modern’, not something from his time. How was it possible?

“Natasha what’s going on?” Clint asked, finally giving up on trying to figure out what it was.

“Your ring tone is Steve’s soulmark.” Natasha answered simply, not looking away from Steve himself. Clint just continued to look confused, Sam was looking worryingly at Steve, and both Bruce and Tony seemed contemplative.

“How’d you know that?” Clint asked, looking back to Steve quickly before looking back to Natasha for an answer. Natasha just looked at the blonde unimpressed, looking away from Steve for the first time since the whole situation started.

“I don’t know Clint, how does one usually find out another’s soulmark?” She asked him incredulously.

The quinjet was quiet for a moment before Tony spoke, tone clearly verging on excited.

“So Cap’s soulmate is James Barnes? Think we can get free tickets to the next concert?” Bruce nudged Tony, a scowl on his face.

“What are you worried about free tickets for when you can buy out the whole thing? And Don’t you think Steve actually meeting his soul mate is more important than tickets Tony?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Steve watched everyone around him, not exactly sure what was going on. From what he gathered, his soul mate’s name was James Barnes, he was apparently famous (and had a gorgeous voice), and everyone knew who he was. Steve wasn’t sure how he should feel. He was so sure his soul mate was either already dead, or old and having lived their life already without him. But now he knew his soulmate was still alive, famous, young, and apparently a man.

He’d found out more about his soul mate in the last two minuet’s than the entirety of his life.

“You alright man?” Steve looked over to Sam and gave a thin smile.

“I’ll be fine.”

“So how are we gonna introduce Cap to his soul mate? From what I know Barnes isn’t real keen on any type of interviews or meeting celebrities. He’s a real private type.” Tony said, having settled into a jump seat himself. He seemed quite giddy.

“I can find out his address easily.” Natasha intoned, crossing her arms and leaning back. Steve’s head jumped up at that.

“You are absolutely not diving into his private life. No address, no phone number or email or anything. If I can’t find it in the public records I don’t want it.” Steve put his foot down, glaring at the spy across from him.

“How do you plan to meet him then?” Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I’ll think of something.”

* * *

Two days later found Steve sitting on his couch in his Brooklyn apartment, laptop open on his lap, Wikipedia opened in one of the tabs. It was quite easy to look up James Barnes on the internet and get, if not all, at least a lot of information on him. He was thirty-two, had three sisters, was in the army for eight years. He started gaining fame on youtube by simply making remixes of his favorite songs. That turned into writing his own songs and eventually into an album.

And he was _gorgeous_. Steve liked to think he wasn’t vain, that he would love his soulmate no matter what they looked like. That it was really personality that counted. But _god_ he was _gorgeous_. There were quite a few pictures on his wikipedia page, each one with different hair lengths and noticeably with the passing of time. From the short army regulation haircut, to what Steve has learned is called an ‘undecut’. The most recent showed him with long hair falling around his shoulders. In pretty much all the pictures he could find James was smiling brightly, eyes crinkled in laughter. Steve loved his smile.

And his _eyes_. They were beautiful. A stormy grey-blue. He didn’t know really anything about James, not what he sounded like talking (singing voice can be really different from talking voice), he didn’t know his favorite color or food. Never had a conversation with him. But Steve already felt like he’s known James his whole life.

He supposed, in a way, he has.

Steve can’t wait to meet him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky’s time in the army was stressful, sad, filled with pain and suffering and regret. But it allowed him to meet some of the most amazing, wonderful men.

Men who were also infuriating.

“Stop changing the fucking color!” Bucky yelled in frustration, the Uno cards in his hands becoming more and more bent as the rounds went. His starting hand of seven was now twenty, and of the twenty cards, he only had two colors. Two colors his ex-squad mates kept making sure the color never was on the stack, throwing in draw-two’s and helpfully stacking them against Bucky.

Bucky didn’t know why they were friends at all.

The guys laughed, their hands much more reasonable and not nearly as agitated as Bucky.

“Come on Sarge, it’s just a game.” Carol smiled at him, her blonde hair in a messy knot atop her head. She looked over to the other three members of Bucky’s old squad. “Isn’t that right boys?” Peter Quil, Scott Lang, and Luis (last name a national secret it seems with how secretive he is of it) mod in agreement.

“Yeah Sarge!” Peter laughed, leaning back in his chair. “In fact, it’s a _child’s_ game. What are you getting so upset for?”

“Because you guys are asshole’s, and trying to make my birthday a disaster.” Bucky grumbled, throwing his cards down on the table. Scott passed over another beer to Bucky before patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, if this is the worst thing that happens on your birthday, you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“That’s so reassuring.” Bucky said flatly, accepting the beer.

“So how’s your sister? She just had her baby last week right?” Carol asked, packing up the cards. Bucky grinned, straitening up in his seat.

“Yeah! Little Abigail. She’s so cute. I’m heading over later today to visit. Becca said she’s already being a handful.” Bucky said with obvious delight. The group sitting around the kitchen table grinned at their Sarge’s obvious happiness.

“So when are you gonna have one of your own?” Scott asked. The smile slowly slid from Bucky’s face as he registered the question. He sighed, setting his beer onto the table. He tapped his fingers against the chilled glass before answering.

“It doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be happening.” Bucky didn’t look up, knowing what he was gonna see on his friends faces.

“What makes you say that?” Carol asked, tone soft.

“I don’t want a serious relationship with someone who isn’t my soul mate, and adoption agencies won’t adopt out to a single parent. For some reason only having one parent is ‘detrimental’ to a child’s health.” Bucky explained, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He loved his sister, but sometimes he was a little bitter. She had everything he ever wanted. She met her soul mate young, and now they were married, had started a family. He was happy for his sister, truly. He had an eight year head start on his sister to achieve the things he wanted. And he was left clear in the dust.

Sometimes, he felt so ashamed to feel that way. Becca deserved everything she had. Bucky just wished he could have that too.

His squad was quiet around him, Scott no doubt beating himself up inside for bringing it up. Peter and Luis were quiet, trying to become part of their chairs. Carol, well. Bucky could just feel the fury rolling off her.

“They won’t give a child a home because your not shacked up with someone? What the hell!” Carol stood up in a huff, stalking off to pace a few feet away. “You could take care of an army of children yourself, and every one of them would grow up to be amazing, responsible adults!” Carol nearly growled it out. She was slowly getting madder and madder as she worked herself up.

“Carol, it’s fine.” Bucky tried to calm her down. Needless to say, it didn’t really work.

“It’s not fine! They should allow people who want to adopt to do so, regardless of their romantic relationship. So what if your single? They think a child can’t get abused or something with a married couple? They allow celebrities to adopt kids from different countries to be raised by nannies. Most celebrities never even interact with those kids. How is that better than a single parent who will actually love the kid they adopt?”

“Celebrities have money.” Bucky answered. Carol gave him a dirty look.

“Having money doesn’t make them good _people_ or _parents_. Besides, you aren’t hurting for money.”

“Yeah, but I’m not famous like Beyonce or the Kardashian’s or something.” Bucky defended. “Being somewhat famous on you tube isn’t the same as being a superstar.” Carol just gave him a dull glare.

“My point is, you would make a damn good parent, with or without a partner.” Bucky smiled sadly, standing up and going over to her.

“I’m glad you think so Carol. But I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance. I’ll just have to be the worlds best uncle and be happy about that.” Bucky smiled sadly, before looking over to the clock on the oven. “I gotta get going. We still on for drinks this Wednesday?” Bucky asked, looking around. There were mute nods all around. Bucky smiled at the group, grabbing his stuff and heading out the door. He stopped briefly outside Carol’s apartment, taking a deep breath and continuing down the stairs. He promised Becca lunch from her favorite Deli, and if he was gonna beat the lunch rush he’d have to hurry.

Hopefully, he could wipe the sadness from his face before he met up with her.

 

* * *

To say Steve has barely left his floor the past few days would be true. He went on his morning runs, sometimes accompanied by Sam, sometimes not. He had a few workout sessions in the gym, joined the team for a movie night last weekend. But mostly?

Mostly he’s been locked in his room on his floor, going through all the recorded songs James has done. He’s done most of the more popular Disney songs, a few from what must be some of his own favorite singers, and twelve of his own original songs.

Steve was a bit worried he was becoming obsessed. But by far, his favorite song was the one from which his soul marks came from. He listened to it first thing in the morning, and last thing before bed. And maybe…a few times during the day, too. His other songs were good too, everything he sang was good. But this song was special.

Sadly, he hadn’t gotten anywhere close to finding out how to contact him. There was no ‘James Barnes’ in the phonebook. Leaving a comment on any of his video’s on youtube would just get lost in the thousands of others. And there was no email he could reach out to. He really didn’t want Natasha to get any information by digging into personal records, but it was starting to look like the only way he might be able to meet James.

He really wanted that to be the last resort.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, it's been a bit hectic lately with doctor's appts and such. This week will be too, plus I'm bringing home my kitten wednesday as she's finally 8 weeks! (she's a calico and her name is Lily.)
> 
> So as everyone knows, the song inspiration for this was Fall Out Boy's 'The Last Of The Good Ones', and since then I've been making a bit of a playlist of what Bucky sings. That is one of them, and this chapter has him mention three others. (These are said to be songs Bucky has written himself in this 'verse, but I don't own any of the songs.)  
> In this chapter I imagine Bucky singing 'Bittersweet' by Panic! @ The Disco, 'Keep Holding On' by Falling In Reverse, and 'Life Afraid' by Set It Off. (All really great songs!)
> 
> (Also while I'm promoting, check out JT Music, Rockit Gaming, and NateWantsToBattle, all great channels that make original songs based off video games (and just original songs in general) that have also somewhat inspired me to write a song fic!)
> 
> Now Enjoy The Chapter! (And don't hate me!)

To say Bucky was excited would be an understatement. There were many great days in his life, like graduating top of his class from high school, his oath swearing when he joined the Army, graduating boot camp, his subsequent promotions, the day he met his squad and second family, bringing them all home safe and sound (if a little banged up), his first original song, then a whole album.

And most recently, the birth of his niece.

But this? This was on a whole separate level.

It was Memorial Day weekend, and what had started as just plans to attend the national parade in D.C. has just exploded.

He was booked to perform Saturday night at the Capital One Arena.

A place that could hold 18,500 people, and which had actual honest to god celebrities perform in it like Beyonce and Bon Jovi and the Rolling Stones.

Bucky was about to go from _youtube famous_ to _actually famous_. 

* * *

 

“Ah man.” Clint sighed as he walked into the common rooms kitchen, his phone held in his hands and a frown on his face. “You’ll never guess who is having a concert tonight and the tickets are all sold out.” Clint flopped into a chair at the table, looking forlornly up at the others dotted around the kitchen. He looked pointedly at Steve, raising an eyebrow. Steve blinked, confused for a moment before getting at what Clint was implying.

“James?” Steve asked, tone a bit hopeful and turning fully to Clint. Clint smiled, nodding.

“And you didn’t know beforehand? You stalk all his social media.” Natasha said, picking daintily at her fruit salad.

“It was a last minute change. Someone else couldn’t make it, and he was already in D.C. for the parade on Monday. I’m super bummed out right now.” Clint replied, looking forlornly at his phone.

“Won’t it be televised?” Steve asked, looking at the two spies sitting at the table. Natasha shook her head in the negative while Clint explained.

“If it was the concert at the Half Time show for the Super Bowl, then yes it would be on the T.V. However, this is more of a private concert, so no ticket, no show.” Clint paused for a moment before perking up. “Actually someone who goes there might tape it then post it on youtube. So maybe we can still see it.” Clint seemed more perked up at the thought and Steve couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re a real big fan of him, aren’t you?” Steve asked, taking his own place at the table with his breakfast.

“The dude’s an inspiration. He graduated high school and went straight into the army, then left the army and pretty much struck out big on youtube with his angelic voice. Oh! And he does vlogs sometimes on his twitter. Have you seen them?” Clint asked, looking at Steve. Steve himself knew he was looking like an excited puppy at that. No. No he didn’t know there was a vlog or a twitter account.

He was going to fix that. 

* * *

Bucky was high on adrenaline as he grabbed a bottled water backstage. The lights were bright and hot, the crowd was deafening, and his earplugs were not as great as they could have been, if the pulsating headache coming on from the noise the speakers said anything. But nevertheless, Bucky was exhilarated.

The three songs he just performed were from his album (which was a few years old now, but a lot of people were still downloading it) and the crowd seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. His portion of the show was over, and he could leave now and go back to his hotel if he wanted, but that kinda seemed rude. There were still two others who were going to perform, and Bucky felt he should stay to support them. It was only right after all.

Bucky paused in his musings as he saw an attractive blonde walking towards him, tight clothes and bright smile. Bucky turned, offering a placating smile. He knew exactly what this was.

“Mr. Barnes, Christine Everhart with Vanity Fair. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” The woman in front of him asked, looking imploringly at him. Bucky internally sighed before reinforcing his falsely pleasant smile.

“I suppose I have a few minute’s free for some questions. What can I answer for you Ms. Everhart.” Bucky steeled himself as Everhart seemed to smile even wider as she pulled a tape recorder from her purse.

“So I hear you just had a birthday a few months ago, isn’t the right Mr. Barnes?”

“Yeah that’s right.” Bucky answered, briefly confused. What did his birthday have to do with anything?

“And that makes you thirty-two now, right?”

“That’s right.” Everhart’s smile seemed to sharpen, but surely that was just all in Bucky’s head..

“How’s it feel, to be nearly halfway through life already and still not have found your soulmate? You are registered as having a soul mate, aren’t you?” Bucky felt his fake smile slip from his face, expression turning completely blank as her words registered. His heart beat painfully and his throat seemed to close, feeling like a baseball was stuck in his throat.

And this, right here, was one of the biggest reasons Bucky did not talk to reporter’s or journalist’s or anyone else that liked to write about others personal lives.

And really, it wasn’t any of her business what was going on in Bucky’s life concerning his soulmate. Or anything for that matter.

Bucky cleared his throat, mind racing, as he thought up a response to this vulture.

“My soulmate is personal, and my personal business is none of yours, Ms. Everhart. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Bucky finished tersely before walking off. While he had planned on staying for the rest of the show, he just couldn’t anymore. He needed to get away and have some peace and quiet.

If he made it back to his hotel and spent a good hour in the shower, no one could blame him. It was a long day filled with excitement and joy and hot lights shining right on him. He needed a little extra time to scrub off all the sweat.

And, well.

You couldn’t differentiate tears from water in a shower. 

* * *

 

A video was posted on youtube later that night of the encounter, filmed by one of the stage hands.

The J.B. Barnes fan club was in an uproar.

Six hours after that, it was spread all over twitter, tumblr, and facebook.

By morning, it was nearly an internet sensation.

**James Barnes burns insensitive journalist. ‘My soulmate is personal, and my personal business is none of yours, Ms. Everhart. Enjoy the rest of your evening.’**  
**Watch Video Here.**


	6. Chapter 6

Steve had woken up in a relatively good mood. He’d slept great for once and had things to look forward to today. For one, he might just get to see a video of James’s performance last night, if someone had indeed recorded it like Clint said someone might.

But first, he had to go for his morning run. Then a shower. And he should probably eat breakfast too. Or maybe he’d get breakfast with Sam after their run, then come home and shower.

Surely a video wouldn’t be posted yet, right?

Either way, it was the only thing on Steve’s mind as he dressed for his run. The whole walk to the park. He was just contemplating taking out his phone to check when Sam jogged up to him, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey man. You ready?” Steve smiled back as Sam patted him on the back, nodding.

“Yeah. I was thinking we could do the route around the lake?”

“Sure thing.” 

* * *

 

It was just past eight when Steve, freshly showered, sat at his kitchen table with his breakfast when he first saw the post. He felt his heart sink and a rock lodge itself in his throat as he clicked on the link.

The video was shaky and the lighting kind of dark, but he could hear everything perfectly.

_“I suppose I have a few minute’s free for some questions. What can I answer for you Ms. Everhart?” James was polite, a beautiful, if tired, smile on his face._

_“So I hear you just had a birthday a few months ago, isn’t the right Mr. Barnes?”_

_“Yeah that’s right.”_

_“And that makes you thirty-two now, right?”_

_“That’s right.”_ Steve put that little tidbit of knowledge away for the moment. He’d have to make sure he found out when James’s birthday was so next year he could do something for him.

 _“How’s it feel, to be nearly halfway through life already and still not have found your soulmate? You are registered as having a soul mate, aren’t you?”_ Steve felt physically sick at that. He felt even worse at James’s reaction. His smile slipped from his face, becoming emotionless and blank. Like no one was home anymore. He blinked a few times, like he was trying to determine if she had really asked that question. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed before setting his jaw.

  
James cleared his throat.

_“My soulmate is personal, and my personal business is none of yours, Ms. Everhart. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Steve watched the video till it’s end, watching James turn his back on the blonde reporter and walk away._

Steve couldn’t help but notice his movements were jerky as he grabbed a coat from a rack along the wall as he left. He minimized the video, then, against his better judgment, scrolled down to read the comments.

Most were outraged that this ‘journalist’ had asked such an insensitive questions. There were a few stating how they wished James were their soulmates.

_‘I’d never have to work a day in my life.’_

_‘Rich and cute? Sign me up!’_

Those comments really irked Steve. Firstly, because James was his soulmate. Secondly, since when was finding a soulmate about what they could give you? Steve didn’t care if James had money or not. They were soulmates, and that was what mattered, not what the other had in their bank accounts. Even when he was growing up and money was tight and everything else so expensive, no one looked for their soulmate just because they were hoping to luck out and find they were now rich.

People these days needed to get their priorities straight. Whether someone has money or not doesn’t matter, the richest people on the planet could still be loathsome abusers. Having a soulmate who was good to you was what really mattered.

Steve pushed away from the table, grabbing his breakfast to put away in the fridge. Funnily enough, he wasn’t hungry anymore.

Maybe Natasha could take his mind off things for a little while. 

* * *

 

**2 Days Later**

* * *

To say Bucky’s weekend ended up being bad, would be a correct observation. He hadn’t even stayed for the parade. Saturday morning he left bright and early back to Brooklyn. He was more than a little horrified to find that there was a video of the incident. Most of the comments were bashing Everhart for being so heartless, while a few were wishing/hoping he was their soulmate because he was rich.

He really wished his actual soulmate wasn’t like that. Besides, it wasn’t like he was making money hand over fist. He did ok, but post of the money he made were donations made to his Patreon. He got some revenue from youtube, but not nearly enough to live off of really. Plus, contrary to popular belief, he did have a job. Though he supposed most people wouldn’t really think teaching self defense at a gym was really a job.

Point being, he did ok for himself. Really he sang because he liked doing it, and his sisters always had him sing to them when they were all growing up.

(He may be a little smug that little Abigail always stopped crying when he sang for her, but would continue to scream when Becca did.)

Anyway, a new day a new start as they say. Bucky woke Monday morning still a little depressed, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He went for his morning run (rather begrudgingly) showered, ate breakfast, then was off to Luke’s gym. He didn’t have any sessions today, but it was always good to make sure everything was in place for tomorrow.

Plus if he wanted to pound on a punching bag with a suspiciously familiar blonde face taped to it, no one would really blame him.

He walked into Luke’s gym, waving briefly at him as he made his way to the locker room. There were others already there, talking by some of the locker’s as Bucky walked by, intent on the last row where his was, completely ignoring the two as he walked.

“Man I don’t know how you do it. The things you do are so stupid they shouldn’t work! I’m telling you Steve, I’m gonna hand it to you one of these days.” One of the guys said. His friend laughed before responding.

_“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you guys are gonna hate me, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. Enjoy the chapter!

To say Bucky was confused would be an understatement. He wasn’t sure why his chest hurt, he was vaguely worried about it being a heart attack, even though there would be no reason for it. He was also incredibly dizzy, like when you stand up too fast and have to sit back down immediately. It also seemed his stomach was rebelling. He knew that milk this morning smelled a little off. He should have made eggs instead.

He also vaguely understood that he was flat on his back on the locker room floor. Which, kinda gross. There was no telling what was getting in his hair right now.

Bucky opened his eyes, not really knowing when he closed them, to see two blurry shapes above him. Blood was pounding in his ears, so he didn’t really understand what the muffled speaking was. He assumed they were trying to ask if he was alright.

The dark spots dancing in front of his eyes left that question at a resounding no. 

* * *

Steve had just given Sam a witty retort when he heard a gasp behind him and the sound of a body hitting hard concrete. Steve whipped around, thinking someone was hurt, and instead saw someone rather familiar laying dazed on the ground.

“James?!” Steve yelped, hurrying over. He crouched down beside James, setting a hand on his shoulder trying to get his attention. He was gasping, like he was having a hard time breathing, and his hands were visibly shaking. “Sam?!” Steve looked behind him to Sam, who had his phone out, a serious look on his face.

“Ambulance is on it’s way.” Sam answered Steve’s unasked question.

“What’s happening?” Steve asked, looking back to James. His eyes were open, but not focusing on anything in particular. He was shaking and breathing heavy, like Steve had when he had heard his words through Clint’s ring tone, but he had still been aware of things around him.

“People with exceptionally strong bonds to their soulmate’s have more severe reactions. I suspect with your healing factor, your reaction wasn’t nearly as bad.” Sam came over and sat his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. The hospital visit is just a precaution. I mean, he did hit his head.” With Sam’s reminder Steve gently turned James’s head. There wasn’t any blood, which was a good thing, but there did seem to be a rather large bump forming.

Steve sighed, leaning back to look at James better. His breathing was calming some, but his hands were still shaking. His eyes were closed again, brows pinched. Steve tried talking to him, but he didn’t seem to be hearing him.

Steve stood back as paramedics came in, a gurney pulled behind them. They asked questions Steve didn’t know the answer to, and quickly loaded him up. Steve got to ride in the back of the ambulance with James as Sam grabbed their gym bags and promised to meet him at the hospital.

The paramedics took his vitals and checked his eyes, saying they still were not focusing right. Steve couldn’t help but worry. Sam had said this happened sometimes, and the paramedics didn’t seem concerned, but Steve couldn’t help but think this was unfair to James. He didn’t ask for an enhanced soulmate, one that upon meeting could have potentially killed him.

Steve sighed, sitting back in his seat. So far, he felt he wasn’t leaving such a good first impression on James. 

* * *

 

When Bucky became truly aware of his surroundings again, he registered the even beeps of a heart monitor, felt the familiar prick of an I.V. in the back of his hand, and the telltale stiffness of a hospital bed at his back.

His head was pounding, a noticeable bump on the back throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Bucky opened his eyes and looked around, noticing he was in a private room. The city outside his window was dark, showing just how long he had been out of it.

He sat up, looking around his bed, when he noticed Becca sitting off to the side, tapping away on her phone. He cleared his throat to get her attention, and when he had it, she jumped up and hurried over, handing him a cup of water from the side table.

After a few slow sips he sat it down and looked over to her, taking in her strangely giddy face, her excitement either badly concealed, or not concealed at all.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Bucky asked, trying to make himself comfortable.

“Well, what do you remember.” Becca asked, dragging a chair closer to the bed.

“I was at Luke’s, planning to spend some time getting ready for tomorrow‘s lessons, and spend some time at a bag. I walked into the locker room. Then I was on the floor. And now I’m here.” Bucky looked to her again, raising a brow as a sign for her to answer. She smiled, trying to obviously contain herself.

“You met your soulmate!” Becca said, her grin taking on a slightly manic look to it. Bucky rolled his eyes in exasperation before freezing and actually hearing what she had said. He looked back to her, eyes wide. He felt his heartbeat rise, causing the monitor to beep faster as he looked around again, trying to see evidence of someone else having been in the room. Nothing jumped out at him so he looked back to Becca.

“Well, where are they?” Bucky asked, tempted to get out of bed and go looking. Becca sensed this and pushed him back into the bed more.

“He came with you to the hospital, but he had to leave. Work related.” Becca smiled secretively at him. Bucky nodded at the answer, but couldn’t help but feel a bit of doubt. If Bucky had been in his soul mate’s position, he would have called off work so he could be there for them when they woke up. Instead, Bucky wakes up with his sister telling him he met his soulmate, but not really since Bucky couldn’t say what they looked like.

Bucky paused, going over what Becca said.

“You said ‘He’?” Bucky asked, looking over. She nodded, smiling wider.

Well, that was comforting. He would love his soulmate, no matter what gender they were, but woman really didn’t do it for him. To find out his soulmate was a guy was both reassuring and not. It was great in that he definitely didn’t have any reservations about being with men, but his soulmate might. Maybe that’s why they left? They saw Bucky and decided they didn’t want him?

Becca looked at him with a frown, before solidly smacking him on his arm.

“Quite it! No more morose thoughts or depressing yourself or putting yourself down! He was really glad to have found you, and really didn’t want to leave, but his work isn’t something he can just wave off. I gave him your number and mine, and your address. He will be in contact with you as soon as he can. He literally left two hours ago. Meaning he spent all day sitting by your bedside. If anything, Sleeping Beauty, you should have woke up sooner.”

Bucky listened to her, and felt quite a bit of reassurance at her assurance that he would get to meet his soulmate soon. Bucky nodded to her, before turning to her more fully.

“Can you at least tell me a bit about him? Since you met him and everything.” Becca smiled again and scooted even closer.

“Tall, over six foot, blonde hair, blue eyes, built, like woah. Tiniest waist I have ever seen on a guy. I’m definitely jealous. Cute but kinda dorky smile.” Bucky nodded along, trying to picture him as Becca went. He side eyed her before asking.

“You seem to have left out a name. Or didn’t he tell you.” Becca laughed. It sounded slightly crazy. He was getting worried about her. Maybe she wasn’t getting enough sleep with the baby.

“His name’s Steve.”


	8. Chapter 8

Steve loved what he did for a living. He saved people who couldn’t save themselves, protected them from bullies they couldn’t stand against, helped those who were hurt and struggling to get to safety. Sometimes, even taking out the bad guys before they could cause any harm.

However, they could have some real bad timing.

Steve had spent nearly the rest of the day sitting in James’s hospital room, waiting for him to wake up. The doctor assured him James was fine, that the bond was just cementing into place and that James would wake when he was ready.

Luckily he made it through the encounter without a concussion.

He was also able to meet James’s little sister. Or one of them at least. Becca said there were three more younger sisters. She knew who he was, saw the exact moment she realized, and yet just smiled and sat next to him, pulling out her phone to show him pictures of the daughter she had just had.

A fair bit of them had a smiling James in them too, looking downright smitten at the baby in his arms.

Becca was generous enough to share hours worth of stories about growing up with James, or ‘Bucky’ as all his sisters and friends called him. From his middle name Buchannan, she told him when she saw the confused face he’d made.

It was cute.

And then his phone rang.

Within the hour he was suited up and on a quinjet to South America. Reportedly there was a new AIM base there, suspected of experimenting on creating a new, lethal virus. After hours trudging though rainforest, coming across a rather angry and confused jaguar, and nearly ending up a snack for every insect on the continent they made it to the base, infiltrated, and started the concise dismantlement of said establishment.

And by dismantlement, Steve meant he was kicking people’s ass with extreme prejudice. If it weren’t for these assholes, he’d probably be talking to his soulmate right now for the first time ever.

If his forearm itched like there were bugs crawling under his skin, it only made it more satisfying to hit someone harder.

“Ok, who took Capsicle’s favorite toy?” Tony asked over the comm’s. Steve couldn’t immediately see him, so he must have been a few halls over.

“Wasn’t a toy!” Sam replied from down the same hall Steve was in, guns out and taking precise shots, his wings deflecting bullets aimed his way.

“Ok, who pissed in his cheerio’s then?” Tony replied.

“Not food related either.” Sam disappeared around a corner, an AIM agent flying into the wall across soon after.

“Well then what’s wrong? He’s definitely pissed.” Tony asked, exasperated. Steve was about to cut in, telling Tony to pay attention to the fight, when Natasha beat him to it.

“Steve met his soulmate.” The tone sounded bored, though you could never tell from Natasha’s tone alone what she was feeling. Steve almost stumbled in surprise. He knows Sam didn’t say anything, and Steve hadn’t either, hadn’t had the time.

“How’d you know?” Steve asked, looking around him. The AIM agents on the ground were silent, no more left standing. He headed down the hall he saw Sam go, intent on helping the others finish up.

“Why else would you be so mad?” Natasha intoned, suddenly appearing beside him. He hardly slowed down, used to if not understanding how she showed up like a ghost.

“So what’s the matter Cap? He Didn’t like you?” Tony asked, tone sounding very neutral. Steve sighed as he looked to his gathering team. Sometimes, they took a little too much interest in his life, but Steve supposed that was what friends were for nowadays.

“Or it could be the fact that we got called away before I could talk to him.” Steve told them, walking deeper into the compound to find the main control room.

“Well why didn’t you talk to him?” Tony asked, the suit clanking down the hallway as he walked. Steve sighed. He knew if he told them, Tony would have something to say. He didn’t really see any other option though.

“He may have…fainted. He was in the hospital asleep when the call came in.” Steve said, pointedly not looking at his team. Besides Sam, the others all seemed to gasp, or other forms of surprise. Steve jumped when Clint suddenly jumped in front of him.

“Please tell me you didn’t damage him. He’s still gonna be a great singer, right?” Steve smiled before responding.

“He’s gonna be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” Clint sighed in relief before continuing along.

“Well lets hurry up so Cap can get back to his Sleeping Beauty.”

Overall, the cleanup wasn’t so bad. Shield arrived for the AIM agents and the scientists working on the virus. The virus itself was taken to a secure location and all the computers loaded up to be mined for intel. Steve was back on the quinjet to New York within 18 hours of the call. That left Steve walking off the quinjet Monday, a few minuets to noon, torn between wanting to shower, eat, and sleep, or call James.

The shower won out. James wouldn’t want to meet him when he smelled like a sewer. 

* * *

Bucky sat in his living room, the T.V. on though he wasn’t really paying attention. His phone was fully charged and laying right in front of him on the coffee table. One wouldn’t be wrong in saying he had spent the entire morning glancing at his phone. Surely his soul mate had finished whatever work emergency he had.

Bucky sighed and threw his head back onto the couch, looking at the plain white ceiling above him. Just as he was contemplating what he was gonna do to take his mind off the phone, a series of squeaking sounds came from the neighboring apartment. Bucky whipped his head towards the wall, eye twitching in annoyance.

“Again? Fucking rabbits.” Bucky got up, shoving his phone in his pocket and pulling on his boots. He made sure to slam his door on the way out. He was not sitting through yet another hour of squeaky bedsprings and screaming.

Bucky had just exited the building when his phone began to ring. He hurriedly pulled it from his pocket, nearly dropping it in his haste. He didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

 _“James?”_ Bucky felt his heart jump at the voice on the other side. It was unmistakably male, deep, and seemed somewhat familiar, but that was probably from when he’d heard him talk in the locker room.

“Uh, yeah! That’s me! Is this Steve?” Bucky asked, trying not to sound stupid. He felt a giddy smile slowly crawl across his face. Bucky looked around and quickly moved from in front of the apartment building door.

 _“Yeah, it’s Steve. I wanted to apologize for having to leave yesterday. Are you doing ok?”_ Steve asked, concern lacing his voice. Bucky felt his heart melt a little bit.

“Oh yeah! Everything’s fine. Is uh, everything with your job ok?”

 _“Yeah. Everything’s been taken care of. Um. If your not busy today, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up? Properly. Like, for a coffee or something?”_ Bucky smiled even more and barely contained a disbelieving laugh.

“I’m free all day today.”

_“That’s great! There’s a coffee shop a few blocks over from Stark Tower, it has a purple awning? I figured we could meet up there if you’d like.”_

“I know the place. We could meet at, say, two? Maybe grab lunch too?” Bucky asked. He couldn’t stop the large smile on his face from growing even more when Steve confirmed, describing what he’d be wearing. Bucky hung up with a smile on his face, feeling lighter than he has in a long while.

He was finally going to meet his soulmate!


	9. Chapter 9

He was early. Too early. And that was even after walking around the park for awhile. He had tried his best not to arrive so early as to appear desperate, but he was pretty sure he failed.

Bucky really couldn’t find it in himself to feel too bad though. Really, he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.

He’d managed to get a table in the back by the large windows. A rather quaint two-seater table. He’d thought of ordering a few of the pastries in the display to go with the coffee’s they’d be ordering, then thought better of it. He didn’t know if Steve had any allergies, and really, sending your soulmate to the hospital because you fed him something his body took for poison would be a quick way to end up as one of the few who’s soulmate’s rejected them.

So here he sat, nearly twenty minute’s early, and he’d already been there for awhile. He tried to keep himself busy with his phone so he wasn’t glancing out the window every few seconds like an escaped convict or something. He’d just managed to get himself somewhat invested in his game of Plague Inc. when he sensed someone walk up to him. Glancing from his phone he was met with a bashful smile and bright blue eyes.

Bucky blinked before taking in the clothes the man before him wore. White shirt (which was ungodly tight), blue jeans (which seriously, how’d he make them look so good?!), and black boots. His eyes moved back up to the man’s face before speaking.

“Steve?”

“James.” The man before him replied. Bucky smiled, standing.

“You can call me Bucky.” Bucky hesitated, not quite sure how he should greet this man, his soulmate. The decision was made for him when Steve brought his right hand from behind his back, presenting Bucky with a bouquet of lavender roses. Bucky smiled, taking the flowers from Steve and looking them over. “No one’s ever given me flowers before. Thank you, Steve.” Steve grinned shyly before asking Bucky what he wanted to drink, offering to go and get it.

When Steve returned to the table, Bucky was seated back in his seat, running his fingers over the velvety petals of the roses, silly grin still on his face. He thanked Steve as his coffee was set in front of him. He waited until Steve was seated himself before speaking.

“Do you know what lavender roses mean?” Bucky asked looking at his soulmate sitting across from him. Steve seemed to freeze, visibly thinking it over before answering.

“I can’t say that I do. I just asked the woman at the shop what to get for meeting my soulmate.” Steve’s bashful smile was slowly starting to slide to a slightly worried from when Bucky answered.

“’ _Enchantment. Love at first sight._ ’” Bucky looked up to see Steve’s questioning look, laughing quietly as he answered. “My sister Becca, the one you met at the hospital? She had this phase in high school where she was trying to memorize all the meanings to common flowers. She made note cards and everything. Made me quiz her when I was around.” Steve looked relieved at his answer, before he met Bucky’s eyes and answered.

“Good thing I got the right one’s then.” 

* * *

 

Time seemed to pass quickly as the two talked, two quickly became three, quickly became six. They talked about nearly everything that crossed their minds, jumping back and forth between topics. Favorite music lasted a good half hour, where Steve admitted that he listened to, and pretty much memorized, all the songs Bucky had on his youtube page, from the songs he wrote himself to the ones written by other popular singers or bands that Bucky just really liked.

That, inevitably, led to their soulmarks. Bucky was more than a little enthralled to see his words emblazoned, bold and proud, right there on Steve’s arm. The inside of his left forearm, from the crook of his elbow all the way down to his wrist, read _‘I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you, but not as much as I do.’_ It was dark, the letters thick and scrawling letters taking up as much space as possible.

When the conversation looped around to Bucky’s own words, he had no problem telling Steve what they were. Showing was a different story.

“That’s more of a third date area.” Bucky joked. It was fascinating to Steve actively think things through, to come around to the answer that wasn’t directly said. Bucky burst out laughing as the red of Steve’s blush quickly swam across his face, from his ears traveling down his throat. 

* * *

 

The conversation eventually moved around to Bucky’s army service. There was a lot Bucky legally couldn’t talk about, but he shared what he could.

“The desert’s hot. Climbing a mountain in a hundred degree weather makes you wish for death. It’s so cold at night you wish for the day to hurry up.”

That led to why Bucky resigned, (I wanted to focus on finding my soulmate. One too many close calls made me realize that continuing might make it impossible for me to do that.) and why he had chosen a rather unconventional but increasingly popular job, (I always liked singing. Sang all my sisters to sleep when our parents were working late. It just started as something fun to do at first while trying to find an actual paying job.). 

* * *

There was something Steve noticed as he and Bucky talked. Bucky didn’t ask him what it was like to be an Avenger, if he found the ‘future’ strange, if there were things he was still confused about. That’s not to say Bucky didn’t ask him questions about himself, or things that weren’t a little personal, because he did. That was just part of getting to know someone.

It took Steve a little longer than perhaps it should have to realize that Bucky didn’t know he was Captain America. He didn’t realize just who Steve was, besides Steve.

Steve liked it. Loved it even.

He knew he’d have to tell Bucky. Better to tell him than for him to find out and think Steve was hiding it. 

* * *

 

Sooner than expected, the coffee shop was closing, leaving Steve and Bucky standing on the sidewalk outside, not quite ready to leave each other. Bucky was cradling the lavender roses in front of him as he bit his lip, thinking.

Coming to a decision, he turned to Steve and spoke.

“There’s a 24-hour diner a few blocks over. We could catch dinner, if you have time.” Steve smiled at the suggestion and held out his arm. It was a little old fashioned, but Bucky just laughed and looped his arm with Steve’s, leading him towards the diner he spoke of. 

* * *

A couple burgers, shared fries and milkshakes later, the two were back on the street, walking aimlessly arm in arm down the still busy streets. The sun had set a long while ago, but the two just couldn’t pull themselves away from the other.

It came down to a phone call in the end.

Bucky glanced at his phone, and the rather panicky text from his sister, Samantha.

“I gotta go.” Bucky said, reluctant. He didn’t want to leave Steve, but whatever was going on with Samantha could be something serious. Steve looks just as saddened, but he nodded and replied with a smile.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” Bucky looked back up at him, taking in his earnest face and hopeful eyes. The roses in his hands crinkled in their paper and Bucky smiled.

“You better. Maybe we can get lunch?”

“Lunch would be great. Let me know when you get home?” Bucky nodded, before taking a chance and hugging Steve tight. Steve chuckled but hugged back just as tight. Bucky backed away reluctantly and made his way to the nearest subway station to get to his parents house. Samantha, being 16, still lived at home, and since she didn’t tell him where she was, she must be at the house.

The whole way there he was trying not to stress about why she had said she needed him ASAP.

Thinking about Steve helped.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So longest chapter yet. It's kinda dramatic. Sorry for the long wait guys, but I'm in the middle of trying to buy a house, and it is not easy. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy...

When Bucky arrived at his parents house and let himself in with his key, there were a few things glaringly obvious to him. The first was his parents car was gone from the driveway, so either one or both of his parents were gone. The second was that, with Elizabeth finally having gone to college after a two year break, Samantha would be the only one in the house, and yet the house (or at least the whole downstairs) was dark.

“Sammie? You here?”

“Up here Bucky!” Came Samantha’s muffled voice. Bucky made his way to the stairs, flipping the light on and making his way up. The first door on the right was Sammie’s room, and while the light was on she wasn’t thee. Furrowing his brow he looked further down the hall to see light coming from under the bathroom door. Bucky walked down and knocked on the door.

“Sammie? You in there?”

“Yes! Yes! Don’t open the door!” Bucky stepped back, raising a brow in question.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

“Yes! I mean no. Well, nothings wrong really, it’s just…well…” Bucky sighed, crossing his arms.

“Sammie, is there a reason you called me all the way over here?” Bucky paused, trying to think of why his sixteen year old sister would lock herself in the bathroom, call him for help, and then stumble over why. Bucky felt his breath catch as he stared horrified at the door. “Oh god Sammie. Please tell me you aren’t in there with a pregnancy test.”

“What? No!” Sammie’s voice cracked as she replied, her voice almost as horrified as Bucky’s had been. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thank god’ under his breath before taking a deep breath and responding.

“Then why are you locked in the bathroom?” Sammie sighed in frustration, and then there was quiet. Bucky was just about to prompt her again when she answered.

“Ok look. This situation is not ideal, and I really _really_ hate to ask you, but I have no other choice. I need you to run to the store and buy me pads.” Bucky blinked, replaying what Sammie had just asked before replying.

“You need me to buy you…pads? What kind? What for?” Sammie groaned in a way that told Bucky distinctly that he was being obtuse.

“I’m _bleeding_ Bucky, and we have no pads in here. So I need you to go get some, otherwise I’m gonna be stuck on this toilet until mom and dad get back, and then mom can go and get me some.”

“Your _bleed_ \- Oh. _Oh_.  _Those_ pads. ” Bucky cringed as he understood what she was saying. And ok, yeah. He supposed that was an emergency. “Ok. Right. I can do that. Do you…like…want a certain brand? Or something?” Bucky stumbled over his words as he tried to get his mind around it. He was certain there were different brands. Everything had multiple brands these days. He was also dreading having to do this. He didn’t even like buying condoms at the drug store, and he was the one using them. The cashiers always had to make a joke about it. _‘Oh, you having some company tonight?’_ And of course there was always comments on the size he got. _“Extra large? Someone sure thinks highly of himself.”_ Not to mention the various innuendo’s and come-on’s.

“Get prevail, extra absorbent, medium. And be quick about it!” Bucky sighed, but trudged down the hall and down the stairs. Once outside, he walked to the nearest drug store, hoping they had the kind Sammie wanted. And that there wasn’t too many suggestive looks as he made his purchase. __

* * *

 

With luck, they did indeed have the brand she wanted, and while the price made him cringe (since it was literally just cotton that she was gonna throw away anyhow) he made his way to the register. He was kinda lucky, in that the cashier was an older woman, but she still eyed him critically as she rung up his purchase, bagged it, and took his card.

Bag in hand, Bucky quickly left and started for his parent’s house to deliver Sammie her requested item.

Bucky made it back relatively quickly. His parent’s car was still gone, so he hurried up the porch steps and dug out his keys, slotting the beat up key on his chain in the lock and slipping inside. He took the stairs two at a time, knocking on the door as he held the bag in his other hand.

“Sammie? You ok?” Bucky asked, listening.

“Bout time Bucky! My butt is about to become one with the toilet seat!” Was Sammie’s dramatic reply. Bucky sighed, thunking his head on the door.

“I was as fast as I could! Look. I got your things, you want me to bring them in?”

“NO! No! Just open the door and toss them.” Bucky did, opening the door the barest amount and tossing the bag and package in, shutting the door again. He waited till he heard the bags rustling, letting him know she had gotten it, before heading back down the stairs, turning into the kitchen and flipping the lights on.

It was a few minute’s later that Sammie joined him in the kitchen, face pulled into a disgruntled frown, a slight embarrassed flush on her cheeks. Bucky watched her busy herself getting a drink from the fridge and rustling in the snack cupboard before he spoke.

“I don’t know why your so embarrassed. It’s a natural thing that happens.” Bucky stated, looking at his youngest sister with a hopefully comforting look. Sammie huffed before turning.

“It _is_ embarrassing. Knowing that something happens in the world isn’t the same as _knowing_.” Sammie replied, crossing her arms. Bucky huffed.

“I changed your diapers you know. And bathed you. And cleaned up your own vomit when you got sick. Why is this so much worse?”

“ _Because_! I’m supposed to be an adult now. I shouldn’t have run out of something so vital for a woman.” Sammie finally sat down at the kitchen island, pouting in a way only teenage girls can.

“You know woman over twice your age still forget things like that?” Bucky said. That got Sammie to raise her eyes to him and he smiled at her. “I’ve had to run for thing for mom too you know. And Becca. And Liz. It’s just something that happens. No need to feel ashamed, or embarrassed. Everybody forgets things sometimes,”

“But. It’s different.”

“How so?”

“You’re my _brother_. It’s one thing if mom runs out and gets me some. Or if Becca or Liz do. They’re woman. Guys always act all weird if anything even hints at stuff like that.” Bucky sighs before shaking his head, smiling exasperatedly at Sammie.

“You think that’s bad? Wait till your old enough to start buying condoms.” Bucky sat still for a few seconds as that sunk in. Then laughed at Sammie’s horrified face as she looked at him. 

 

* * *

 

 

It was much later that night that Bucky finally walked into his apartment, phone already in hand and shooting a text to Steve that he was home and everything with Samantha was fine.

He tossed his phone, keys and wallet on the stand in the small entrance hallway while he walked into the kitchen, heading to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of beer, shutting the fridge with his foot as he turned. His eyes immediately went to the slightly open drawer by the end of the counter space across the small kitchen as he twisted the top off. He was only just able to stop himself from freezing, continuing the motion of opening his beer and tossing the cap into the nearby trash can.

He carefully surveyed the area around the kitchen, seeming to nonchalantly look at the junk mail on the counter. The lamp in the living room was on the floor instead of the end table, the window leading to the fire escape was open slightly, and there were slight muddy footprints leading down the hallway to the bedroom and bath on the wooden floor. Bucky could see the slightest shadow moving in the hall, no doubt the intruder.

Bucky turned his back on the hall, taking a steadying breath as he set his beer on the counter, eyes flitting to the knife block just out of reach. He tossed the junk mail in the trash before ducking, flinching slightly at the sound of a bullet hitting the tiled backsplash.

Footsteps rushed towards the kitchen counter Bucky had taken refuge behind. Bucky threw out his leg, tripping the intruder, and diving for the hand that held the gun. The assailant was wearing all black, with a ski mask obscuring his features depicting bones, like that of a skull. Bucky grabbed his wrist, trying to twist the gun from his hand while the man thrashed around under him. Bucky grunted as he was thrown off, a fist having made contact with his stomach.

Bucky looked up, eyes widening at the barrel of the gun pointed right at his face.

Bucky rolled as the gun went off, a searing pain flaring on the side of his neck. Bucky popped up to his feet, lunging for the knife block before darting around the counter, ducking again as another shot went off as he ran for the hall, putting as much distance and objects between himself and the gun as possible.

Bucky ducked around the corner of the hall, back against the wall. The intruder already fired 3 rounds, and there was little doubt that his neighbors likely called the police already. The only question was, would the police get here first, or would he be able to fire the rest of his clip?

Bucky needed to get that gun.

Bucky had the knife firmly clutched in his right hand, left hand clutching the left side of his neck. Blood was leaking through his fingers and drenching his shirt from the graze, but it didn’t seem to be that bad. Bucky glanced at the knife and winced. The knife was long, and good for cutting up steaks, but it wouldn’t hold up real well if he had to use it and hit bone. The one time he forgot to pocket his combat knife along with his keys in the morning. And retreating to his room right now to retrieve it would corner him, and leave his back wide open.

Bucky looked back to the front rooms, listening intently for movement. Bucky looked to his TV, angled in a way that the reflections off it showed the kitchen. He could see the intruder slowly making his way around the counter, gun raised, moving as quietly as possible. Bucky flipped the knife, holding onto the blade as he readied to throw it.

Bucky tensed as he waited for his moment, then swung from his cover and flung the knife, allowing himself to fall to the floor to avoid the shot. He heard the thunk of the knife hitting flesh. It was followed by a short yell as the man dropped the gun and grabbed hold of his shoulder, where the six inch blade sunk handle deep into the mans shoulder. Bucky stood up quickly and kicked the gun away from the mans reach as he knocked the mans knee’s out to send him to the floor.

“Don’t move.” Bucky said, his voice low with pain, but menacing all the same. The man didn’t seem to hear him as Bucky retrieve some duct tape from the junk drawer in the kitchen, winding it around the mans wrist’s in front of his body.

Bucky grabbed a tea towel from the counter, pressing it to his neck as he kept his eyes on the intruder. It was only a minute or two later that he heard the police sirens screaming up the block, the red and blue lights flashing in through the windows. Bucky took a deep breath, his fingers shaking slightly from the adrenaline. Bucky made his way to the front, opening the door so the police could come in easily.

Everything seemed to move relatively quickly once the police entered the apartment and took away the intruder. At the moment they seemed to think it was a robbery in progress that Bucky had walked in on. The gun was quickly collected and taken away as the EMT’s looked at Bucky’s neck before ushering him to the ambulance. He was barely able to grab his keys, phone and wallet on the way out.

It didn’t look like he was meeting Steve for lunch tomorrow.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference Bucky uses in this chapter about health class is something the happened to me in middle school. I am female and it creeped me out, so I can't even imagine what it was like for the boys of the class.
> 
> Did anyone else see that particularly creepy diagram?
> 
> Also, sorry for the delay. Things have not been ok. To put things simply, I am no longer buying a house, the landlord where I'm renting is threatening to throw me out for lies his mother is telling him (seeing as she lives next door) both my laptop and tablet have broken for no discernible reason, and the job hunt is going terribly. The minute the words 'recovering veteran' is brought up, it seems suddenly I'm not a desirable candidate for the job anymore.
> 
> So needless to say, my depression has been winning a lot lately, and a big chunk of this was written in the hours between 3 and 4 AM on the days I wrote anything at all. I won't promise the next chapter will be out quickly at all.

Bucky was sitting in a hospital room, a tired looking nurse stitching his wound shut, when he looked at his phone to see the message.

_Steve <3 ~ I’m not going to be able to make it for lunch tomorrow, last minute job emergency. We can make plans for Friday if your available? Let me know!_

Bucky feels his heart sink a bit at the message, sent some time while he was with his sister, but if anyone can understand the importance of ‘work emergencies’, it’s someone who’s been in or around military personnel. Granted Bucky’s work emergencies tended to be because they were being bombed or ambushed or shot at.

But now that Bucky thinks about it, Steve had said he worked for the government. He very well may be getting shot at.

Bucky replied, his fingers still trembling from the adrenaline rush.

_To Steve <3 ~ No problem! Let me know when is good for you. Hope everything with your job works out. <3_

Bucky hissed as the nurse pulled the thread taught, cutting it off and starting to gather up the trash and unused items. His first instinct was to start prodding at the thread holding his flesh together. It was sadly harder to control the impulse than Bucky would ever admit.

“It can’t get wet for 24 hours. It’s ok to wash it after that. No rubbing alcohol. Pat dry with a clean cloth. See your primary care doctor if it starts oozing fluid.” Delivered in a bored monotone, the nurse never once looked at Bucky as she threw out the trash and cleaned up the room, disposing of the bloodied gauze used to clean his neck before the stitches. She walked out the room without saying anything further, leaving Bucky alone and confused on the bed.

“Does that mean I can leave now?” 

* * *

 

Bucky grumbled as he sat on the subway, his eyes burning with tiredness, stomach rumbling. He’d made it all the way back to his apartment only to be told he couldn’t stay the night there as they were still processing the scene and determining if it was really a robbery. He’d be allowed back the next afternoon, but until then, he had to find someplace else to sleep. At two in the morning.

And, as if this night wasn’t bad enough, the numbing shot they put in his neck for the stitches was wearing off, and pain was beginning to register in his brain. Seeing as the wound isn’t really that serious, he wasn’t given any pain meds. So on top of food and finding somewhere to sleep, he also needed to find some advil or something.

Bucky got off at the next stop, looking around before heading to the corner store he could see. A quick search found him some generic pain meds, a dubious microwave burrito, and a room temperature bottle of water. The young cashier was nice enough to allow Bucky to use the microwave in the staff room, and soon was on his way. After gulping down a couple pills and half a bottle of water, Bucky found a bench at a bus stop to sit and eat his (rather nasty) burrito. It was while sitting here that Bucky got the brilliant idea.

What good were old army buddies if not to sleep on their couch when you needed to?

After tossing the wrapping for the burrito in a nearby bin, Bucky pulled his phone out and scrolled to the first contact to fit such a description.

“This better be good Barnes. Do you know what time it is?” Came the groggy voice on the other end. Bucky smiled, cooing in response as if trying to calm a wild animal.

“Danvers. You know you’re my favorite right?” He heard a sigh on the other end, some shuffling, and then Carol responded.

“What do you need James?”

“Can I sleep on your couch?”

“What happened to your couch? Or better yet, your bed?” Bucky chewed his lip a moment, bouncing on the balls of his feet before responding.

“I’ve been kicked from my apartment for the night, seeing as it’s an active crime scene.” Bucky held his breath as that sunk in, quietly counting down in his head.

“WHAT?! What happened? Are you ok? Do I need to come get you? Call the boys? Talk to me James!” Bucky chuckled quietly, waiting for the tirade to quiet before speaking.

“An attempted robbery, a little banged up, you don’t need to come get me, and no you don’t have to call the others.”

“What do you mean by a little banged up?”

“I got grazed. On the neck.” Bucky waited as he heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a measured sigh.

“Get your ass over here.”

Bucky smiled, “Yes ma’am.” 

* * *

When Bucky arrived at Carol’s flat, he was met with a tired looking blonde dressed in an oversized shirt and men’s basketball shorts, her blonde hair thrown up in a messy bun on top her head. Her eyes scanned him quickly, taking in his hair which was slowly becoming greasy, the gauze wrapped all the way around his neck, and the slumped, tired shoulders.

“Come in. I’ll get you a drink.”

Several minute’s later found Bucky sitting on Carol’s plush couch, glass of whisky in hand, and Carol giving him that ‘I’m not gonna ask, but you are gonna tell me’ stare. Bucky took a fortifying sip of his drink before starting.

“I met my soulmate.” He paused there, knowing that Carol would let out the happy shriek and the inevitable bone crushing hug that followed it. Her happiness was quickly subdued, however, when she pulled back to look him in the face.

“He’s not the one who shot you, is it?”

“First off, no. Second, why are you assuming my soulmate’s a guy?”

“You look too relieved for it to have been a woman.”

“You know I would have loved my soulmate either way.” Bucky insisted. And it was true. If Steve had turned out to be a Stephanie or something, he would still have loved him and stuck by him. There just wouldn’t have been any sex.

“It doesn’t matter how much you love someone, if your dick refuses to get hard for a woman, whether fate says your supposed to be together or not, then there’s gonna be problems. Unless you were super lucky, and she turned out to be lesbian or ace, and didn’t expect sex from you. But seriously, the face you made was definitely one that screamed ’thank god there is sex in my future’ and not ’I’m living the rest of my days as abstinent as a monk’.” Bucky laughed at her explanation, the vibrations in is throat causing an unpleasant sting in his neck.

“You want me to finish the story or not?”

“You may proceed.”

“We spent all day today together. From around lunch to almost dinner. We were gonna get dinner together when Samantha messaged me with an emergency.”

“Is she ok?” Carol asked, her light hearted smile dimming slightly with concern.

“She ran out of, uh, lady things. That you need. Every month.” Bucky always got weird with these things. Not so much because it was pertaining to his sister, or the whole blood thing. It was natural, and kinda necessary for the human race to continue existing. And he didn’t want to sound like the stereotypical gay man people who don’t know anything think gay men are like. And he’s definitely not proud of it. But. Well.

Female genitals make him uncomfortable.

And he blames it entirely on his middle school health class and the stupid teacher who, upon covering the reproduction system, told the boys to think of the diagram of the female reproductive parts as an alien head, with the ovaries being the eyes, fallopian tubes being the eyes stalks like on a snail, and the uterus as the actual head and mouth.

It definitely scarred him for life. He doesn’t feel bad that the teacher got fired later that year. Sadly the damage was done, and Bucky can’t really get the horrific images his middle school self concocted of being killed by female genitals.

Like he said, he’s not proud.

Carol just gave him a flat, unimpressed look, letting him know just how done she is with him.

“You mean pads.”

“Yes.” She gave a tired sigh but waved him on. He described how he ran and got some for her, like the good brother he is. How he spent a few hours with her, catching up with her about what was going on at school. The guy he saw on his way home on the subway with the real gigantic tattoo on his face that Bucky couldn’t really make out, but was about 89% sure was a dick.

“Then I got home. Sat my stuff on the table near the door. Walked into the kitchen and noticed a drawer that was slightly open. The window at my fire escape was cracked open. A lamp was knocked over. He rushed me when I ducked behind the counter. I tripped him and we wrestled on the floor for the gun. He was able to throw me off, and I was only just able to roll away from getting a bullet between the eyes. That’s when he grazed my neck. I was able to grab a knife from the block and get the wall of the hallway between us. He tried to sneak up to get a shot at me, and that’s when I threw the knife at him. He dropped the gun, and I taped his hands together before calling the police.”

“And they’re still determining what happened? It seems simple to me. He was an intruder in your home, he tried to kill you. You simply defended yourself from him. They can’t possibly believe a robber over a distinguished, and highly decorated veteran.”

“They have to cover their asses Carol. He’d be stupid to try and press charges on me. And the cops would be stupid to believe a word he says.”

“It happens.”

“Then I’ll get a damn good lawyer.”

“You know me and the guys will give you outstanding character references.” Bucky chuckled, downing the rest of his drink before looking back to Carol.

“I know.”

“So! Tell me more about this soulmate of yours!”

“Don’t you want to go back to sleep?”

“Sleep can wait. You’ve only been waiting to meet your soulmate your whole life.”

“Well I’m tired and have had a long day. I’m sure you can wait until morning. We can have breakfast with the guys so I can tell all of you at once. Won’t have to repeat myself then.” Carol gave him an unimpressed look before nodding.

“You know where the linen closet is. And the bathroom. Spare toothbrushes are in the medicine cabinet.”

“Yes Carol.” Bucky laughed as she walked away, waiting for her bedroom door to shut before letting his head fall back to the cushion of the couch. He took a deep, fortifying breath, before rising and getting around to sleep.

Hopefully the week would pass by quickly so he could see Steve again. It’s only been hours and already Bucky is missing him. 


	12. Chapter 12

One thing Bucky has always found strange is the fact he hardly ever dreams, and even when he does, he never really remembers them. Or well, until a few years ago he never really dreamed at all. Then he came home and the dreams started up. Or nightmares more like. Flashbacks even. It wasn’t until a few years after he was back he had his first actual dream.

Something that thoroughly confused Bucky at the time.

One thing, Bucky has learned, that you never dream about, is being watched. Either you are or you aren’t. Dreams can’t really capture that feeling.

And if Bucky knew one thing in life, he knew his squad. On or off the battlefield.

“Your all creepy fuckers and I hate you.” Bucky mumbled, refusing to open his eyes.

“Come on Sarge, you promised in the morning with the boys. It’s morning and the boys are here. Breakfast is already on the table.” Bucky sighed and finally opened his eyes, seeing exactly what he knew he would. He was surrounded by his crackpot team, all of them staring with eager eyes.

Bucky sighed.

“Fine.” He was met with cheers and a stampede to the table. “Wash your fucking hands you animals!”

* * *

 

With all hands washed, and everyone seated at the table, Bucky took a moment to be amazed. Not only had Carol made up a huge batch of scrambled eggs and a full pan of bacon and sausage both, but there was also a large plate of toast, hash browns, a bowl of fruit salad and a pitcher each of milk, water and orange juice. Carol had gotten all this around and the guys over without once waking Bucky. And at 8 AM no less. Bucky was amazed.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think Carol was a ninja.

“Alright, use your indoor voices and take turns. Carol’s first.” That got a few snickers, but he knew his squad. If you don’t lay out the ground rules they’ll act like a bunch of children. Carol excluded. Most times.

“Alright. First off, what’s his name.”

“Steve.”

"Where’d you meet?” Scott cut in, getting a dirty look from Luis who was next.

“Luke’s gym.”

“Is he hot, brah?” Luis got in eagerly before he was cut off again.

“Very.”

“What’s he look like, exactly?” Peter leaned forward, chewing a strip of bacon with a very serious expression.

“Taller than me. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Huge biceps. He has a dorky sense of humor that’s actually really endearing somehow.” Bucky has to stop himself from gushing about Steve. Or going into great detail how tight Steve’s shirt was yesterday. Or how Steve’s smiles made him look like he was embarrassed about something.

“Tell me more about these biceps of his.” Carol says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Bucky can’t help but laugh, the pain in his neck hardly pinging on his awareness. 

* * *

Later that day Bucky is finally able to return to his apartment. It doesn’t really feel like it’s been less than 24 hours since everything happened. He’s left with a simple ‘We’ll be in touch’ and a patrol officer recommending he get a security system put in. Bucky gave a tight lipped smile, closing the door and locking it firmly.

Looking around the place, Bucky sighed. He moved to the hall closet, getting out the broom and dust pan, cleaning up the broken lamp. An old rag and bleach came next, cleaning up both his own blood and the few drops from the douche bag robber. Bucky scrubbed his hands thoroughly after.

With the room as clean as it was going to be Bucky moved to the bathroom, and started work on unwrapping the gauze from his neck. There was a bit of blood staining the cotton, and the stitches seemed a bit irritated, but overall it looked fine so far. Bucky stripped and hopped in the shower, taking care to keep the water from his stitches but still getting clean. (Especially his hair, which looked extremely gross.)

Shower finished, Bucky stood in front of the mirror again, wet hair pushed back from his face and neck as he re-wrapped some gauze around his neck. A quick shave later and Bucky was crawling into some sweats and a hoodie, collapsing onto the couch and reaching for the remote. He paused, seeing his phone on the coffee table and reaching for it.

He really should let his parents know what had happened. He’d never hear then end of it otherwise. What he had meant to be a brief but reassuring phone call turned into a three hour conversation which consisted mostly of Bucky saying ‘I’m fine’ over and over again.

“Maybe I should come over there, make sure your ok.” Winifred says over the phone, her voice tense with worry. Bucky smiled ruefully, shaking his head.

“Really mom. There’s no need. I’m completely fine. It’s not even a proper gun shot wound. It just grazed me. I’ve had worse you know.” Bucky said, hinting at the injury that had led to him resigning from his Army career. He heard his mother grumble a bit more, before relenting.

“You call me tomorrow ok? Let me know your still breathing.”

“Sure thing ma. Maybe we can get lunch sometime this week? I have some good news to tell you, anyway.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“Love you too ma. Let me know when you want to get lunch. Bye.” Bucky sighed as he finally ended the phone call, looking back to his T.V. where Netflix has gone back to the menu screen, showing ads for shows it hosted. He really wasn’t in the mood to watch anything now, though.

Bucky looked back to his phone, biting his lip before opening up the messaging app.

 _To Steve <3 ~ Hope your doing ok with work._ 

* * *

Steve is just boarding the quinjet, his suit covered in dust and blood, when J.A.R.V.I.S. announces through the teams communicator’s of another Hydra base nearby. Steve is only just able to suppress a sigh, collapsing into a seat along the side of the quinjet as the rest of the team board behind him.

They’d left for this base just after Bucky had left last night. They arrived at the base at midnight, and a quick scope of the place showed they’d be here a while. He had regrettably sent a text to Bucky, canceling their lunch plans, before heading into the base.

Now, just after noon, they’d finally finished up with this base, SHIELD agents heading in to clean up and retrieve any files that need either shredded or stored somewhere where not just anyone could come along and read them.

Steve checked his phone, seeing Bucky’s return text and smiled briefly.

_From Bucky ~ No problem! Let me know when is good for you. Hope everything with your job works out. <3_

_From Bucky ~ Hope your doing ok with work._

_To Bucky ~ Things have spiraled a bit. One problem has been dealt with, but now a second has popped up. Everything should be dealt with soon. Can’t wait to see you again!_

Steve hit send as he felt the quinjet jolt, slowly ascending into the air. Right, back to work. 

* * *

 

The second day of June is a beautiful day. The café is busy for a Thursday, but it’s his mother’s favorite because of their coffee cake. And Bucky thought it’d be great to tell his Ma he finally met his soulmate when she had her favorite confection in front of her.

She made her way back to the table with her cake, eyeing his bandaged neck critically but keeping silent about it. She sat down, taking a quick sip of her coffee before starting on her cake, her eyes alone telling him to start talking.

He never could hide anything form his ma.

“I met my soulmate Sunday.” Bucky said, just throwing it out there. Winifred froze, her eyes wide and lips clamped around a bite of cake. Bucky smiled smugly, taking a sip of his own sugary drink while his ma rushed through chewing and swallowing her cake.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” Winifred started, setting her fork down and her whole attention honing in on Bucky. “James Buchanan! That’s something you tell your mother! Immediately! Not nearly a week after!” She put her hands on her hips, but the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ vibe was diminished with her sitting down. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head at his ma’s antics.

“I forgot. I mean, there was a rather momentous thing happening. And then some idiot tried to rob me. Besides, I figured you’d rather me tell you to your face instead of a text or over the phone.” Winifred begrudgingly nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Are you going to tell me what they’re like?’

“You’ll like him.” Bucky answered, smiling. “He’s taller than me, blonde hair, blue eyes. He’s ex-military, but still works for the government. Becca’s met him already.” At that he got the stink eye, his ma frowning at him.

“Becca’s met him already but I’m only just now hearing he exists?”

Bucky laughed and went on to explain the whole story, how he had heard his words at Luke’s gym. How he subsequently fainted and smacked his head, landing himself in the hospital. He tells her of the day he spent with Steve on Monday, and how they’re planning to meet up again tomorrow.

Winifred nods along, a small smile on her lips as she watches her son go on and on about his soulmate. She couldn’t be happier for her son in this moment. James had grown from a slightly shy but kind little boy into an intelligent and courageous young man. Seeing her sons hopes slowly start to fade as he grew older and had still not found his soulmate was heartbreaking.

Looking at him right now, in a busy café on a Thursday afternoon, he looked lighter than he had been in years. Since before his first deployment, even. His eyes were bright, his smile genuine, and for once, his shoulders weren’t sagging with the weight of the world. At this moment, he didn’t look like he had lived for centuries. The bitterness she saw slowly growing in his eyes was gone. She saw how hard he tried not to be, how hard he hid it from everyone, even himself. But Winifred saw it.

The absence of it was so palpable, Winifred couldn’t help but think it made her son look different than he had in ages.

She couldn’t be happier.


End file.
